


For all the things you've done//All the things I wish I'd done

by the_authors_exploits



Series: Mirror Mirror [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22655119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: Jason sometimes feels small standing besides Kai, the one unscathed by everything, the burning fire no one expects.
Relationships: Jason Todd&Original male character
Series: Mirror Mirror [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1431328
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	For all the things you've done//All the things I wish I'd done

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to go in one direction and went in a whole other!

Rain. It always seems to rain in Gotham.

“What a stupid city.”

Jason glances to the fire escape; Kai is stepping onto the rooftop, two coffee cups in hand, and he holds one out as he stomps through puddles. Jason hums, takes the offered drink, blows into the little hole before taking a sip.

“So cliche; why can’t we go guard Miami or something?”

“You can,” Jason snaps; Kai blinks under his hood, unimpressed. “Gotham’s my city.”

“Batman’s city.”

Jason kicks at the other’s leg, making him retreat out from under the overhang and back into the chilling rain. He points a finger at his clone. “Stay.”

“There’s not enough room under this overhang for two?” A mocking tone, a hidden snicker. Jason considers tossing his coffee at him, but that’d just be a waste of good coffee so he takes another sip; Kai inches minutely closer. “I’s good, right? I asked for extra caramel.”

Jason begrudgingly toes their helmets to the side--it  _ is _ good coffee--and Kai hops into place besides him out of the rain; the other grins maniacally at the perceived win. For good measure, because Kai always likes to go one step further, he shakes out his wet head and Jason hunches away in disgust.

“Stop that! You’re getting me all wet!”

“Good,” Kai harrumphs. “Dunno why you made us patrol in the rain; not like the baddies come out in bad weather.”

“You could’ve stayed home.” Jason doesn’t make Kai do anything; the other boy does whatever he wants, really. Almost annoyingly so. (almost endearingly so, leaping out without a care, everything so simple for him)

Kai turns towards him, leans close. “Like I’m letting you out of my sight after what happened last time!”

Ah, yes; being buried under rubble isn’t exactly Jason’s favorite memory. The broken ribs, mangled hand, and various other internal injuries rank right up there too. “S’not my fault,” he still defends and Kai rolls his eyes.

“I know that; if I ever see Batman alone, he’ll get what’s coming. I know,” he raises his hands in surrender. “I know I said I’d leave the whole revenge thing to you-- _ I’m _ not the one who died and crawled out of my grave--but now I think I deserve a little bit of vengeance.”

Jason quirks a brow. “For what?”

There’s a burning fire in Kai’s eyes; something feral, something murderous. Jason doesn’t feel the least bit threatened. “For what he did to you!”

He takes a long drag of coffee. “Shouldn’t I be the one wanting revenge for that?”

Kai straightens, shifts his shoulders as if to appear taller; he’s not, maybe by just a centimeter or two, really. Still, Jason feels small besides him. “Sure, but why can’t I too? He hurt you, Jason, and I take offense to that.”

Something bursts in his chest; it’s bright and suffocating and Jason snatches his helmet from the ground and steps out into the storm. “Let’s go home.”

  
  


Jason wakes too many times from bad dreams that he just gives up completely; he leaves his bed a disaster and settles down on the couch, television quiet on an hour long infomercial, as images burned into his retina rattle about in the shadows of his vision. He’s scrubbing furiously at his eyes as if he can erase the visions with enough pressure that he doesn’t notice when Kai appears.

He hears the cupboard open though, a cup getting slid across the counter top, water pouring; his shoulders itch at the idea of someone tiptoeing about behind him, the feeling of a presence too loud. There’s the whistle of Kai’s kettle and Jason whips a glare on his roommate.

“Go the fuck to bed!”

Kai doesn’t say anything; he walks over in measured steps and holds out a steaming cup. “It’s chamomile and mint; just try it.”

Jason thinks about throwing the cup halfway across the room, but then he actually looks at it and he frowns. “You’re letting me use your favorite mug?”

It’s true; he’s holding one of their plain mugs close and offering out the glow in the dark pumpkin mug that he treasures so. Kai’s blank gaze is answer enough and Jason finally accepts the tea; Kai folds down besides Jason, feet tucked in the seam of the couch cushions, and sips quietly. “I betcha  _ Troy _ is playing.”

“We know it by heart.”

Still, Kai changes the channel; he falls asleep by the time the Myrmidons have reached Troy and Jason takes his mug before it can fall to the carpet.

  
  


“She liked you,” Jason teases; he squints down the scope, hiding a smirk with the way his face twists. “Did you get her number?”

He hears the hiss of the helmet cinching against Kai’s skin. “Shut up; you should’ve been the one down there.”

A club bumps vague music down on the street and around the corner someone lights a cigarette; Jason swallows the urge to buy a pack. “They’d’ve recognized me.” At least now there’s confirmation that their mark is, indeed, in the club.

Suddenly Kai’s helmeted face is filling up the scope’s view and Jason just knows he’s incredulous at that implication; the boy waves a hand between them. “Dude, we’re practically twins!”

“No one recognized you though.” Jason finally lets the smirk slip through when Kai just sits there and huffs; he resettles the sniper against his shoulder, aligns the shot. “Now move, you’re in my way.”

Kai shuffles out of the way, one leg draped casually dangerous over the edge; in just a few moments, the mark steps out of the club and adjusts his jacket, glancing out at the line of people awaiting entry. He waves at someone, takes a step, and drops dead. Kai whistles low and long.

“Nice shot!”

Jason is already packing up the equipment and Kai tips forward, letting gravity pull him towards the ground, unafraid. Jason grits his teeth.

  
  


Feet pound the pavement; Jason slams into the door the moron tries to close behind him. They’ve made their way into an industrial plant near the outskirts of Gotham, machinery reverberating in Jason’s helmet. He considers tossing it, but that’d mean he’d need to take his eyes off the criminal and he’s worked too hard tracking him down to let him get away.

“Aaron, stop!”

The man pulls a pile of pallets down and Jason catches one in the shoulder; he grunts, grabs at the stinging pain, and starts clambering over the pile. Aaron is making good progress in his escape, however, and Jason grits his teeth, swears.

A crowbar comes swinging from around the corner, cracking Aaron’s nose and he goes down heavily. “Prepare for trouble,” Kai quips as he shifts into view. “And make it double.”

Aaron curses, clutching his gushing nose. “Wh--there’s two of you?!”

Kai hums, raises the crowbar, and slams it down against the man’s body; another crack and Jason flinches. Kai flips the crowbar in his hand before leaning it against his shoulder, glancing momentarily at the man groaning on the ground. He steps over the scumbag and approaches Jason.

He doesn’t let him get close, quickly skirting around Kai, not making eye contact; he goes to cuff Aaron for the cops, assessing the injuries he knows too well.

“You’re welcome,” Kai scoffs.

Jason doesn’t talk to him for a week.

  
  


“Are you gonna tell me why you’re so pissed?” Kai gnaws on the end of his straw; they’re in a diner, late one night, jackets in place but nothing else to announce their identities.

Jason rips his napkin and says nothing.

Kai tosses a fry at him, which he begrudgingly eats, never one to waste food after all. “Did I steal your glory or something?”

“Next time just punch the asshole.”

A quirked brow. “What?”

He clenches his jaw in response, grits out. “You didn’t need the crowbar.” 

Kai considers that; he slurps the last few droplets of soda. “It was there so I improvised. ‘Sides, a couple o’ whacks were well deserved.”

“It wasn’t necessary.” He grips the edge of the booth to stop the tremors. “He was already in custody.”

Kai squints, leans close, and Jason wants to puke; he turns away instead. “Okay, so are you pissed I knocked some teeth loose? Hell, we’ve killed people!”

Jason shushes him; the waiter, however, is a Gotham bred and born and knows better than to ask anything. She gives Kai a refill, sets a piece of pie Jason definitely didn’t order in front of him, and walks away. Kai passes over a clean fork.

“What’s got your goat on a spit roast?”

He doesn’t even bother to comment on the new colloquialism; he rubs at his brow, digging at the pie. Apple, gooey and warm. His favorite. He glares at his double. “I hate you.”

Kai grins, oddly soft, and leans back to watch the quiet diner. “Love ya too.”

  
  


But he might actually mean it and that is oddly disconcerting; Kai uses a strip of lumber the next time he feels like improvising, but he’s still so flashy, so sure, so confident. He doesn’t flinch when the car explodes on a TV they pass, swerves into crowds like he truly believes no one can hurt him, leaves so many openings that it’s a wonder he hasn’t died yet.

“Fuck,” Jason swears when his hand slips again; it’s really not that bad of a wound, but the blood--cooling but still slick--between his fingers is disturbing. “Can’t you stay out of trouble for once?”

Kai shrugs, pulling at the stitches Jason ever so carefully lined into his skin, and Jason pinches his ear and tugs. “Ow!”

“Sit still! God, what’d you even get hit with?”

“A batarang.”

Jason’s movements falter but soon enough he’s pinching the wound closed and sewing the last few centimeters. “You ran into Batman?” He tries not to put any inflection in his voice, but there’s still a tight edge. He’s not even sure what he’s mad about.

“I was just chilling on a rooftop and the big man shows up, tries to take me in, said I needed help.” Kai scoffs. “He thought I was you.”

Jason bites his cheek. “You gotta be more careful; you never watch your blindspots!”

“I fight just fine.”

Jason prods the edge of the wound; Kai hisses and curls away. “That says something different; god, you’re so stupid!”

They sit in silence as Jason finishes bandaging the wound; finally, as he’s tossing the garbage out and wiping the blood off his hands, Kai asks--soft like again, dare Jason say unsure--“Did Robin really give you magic?”

A pause; he thinks he hears his bones crack under the strain of his muscles. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Nightwing said it.” So the Golden Boy was there too; Kai tugs a shirt over his head. “Asked where your magic went, that you could have it back if you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Jason mutters. “That was a long time ago.”

“That’s not a no; bet you were a cute kid.”

Jason turns his anger on him then, frustrated and tired. “You don’t get it, do you? Being Robin gave me hope; I lived on the street, I did things to survive I wish I could forget! And I died realizing Robin--Batman--was useless! Nothing ever changes.”

Kai doesn’t show any emotion; he sits, watches with those fearless eyes, and Jason pulls his arm back for a punch. To whip some sense into Kai, to show him that the world isn’t harmless, that he needs to be careful and watchful. Kai dodges though, even with his injury, and grabs Jason’s wrist; he twists, pulls, maneuvers them so Kai is pinning him down. Jason grabs a fistful of Kai’s shirt; he tugs to set Kai off balance, but Kai anticipates and only leans closer.

“You don’t get it!” Jason snarls; he wonders if his flying spit hits its mark. “You aren’t invincible, Kai! You’ll never be untouchable and you act like no one can touch you! You don’t have the scars, you don’t  _ know _ what people are capable of!”

For a minute there’s silence; Jason heaves and Kai just watches him.

“You’re right,” he finally answers. “You’re right; I don’t know, I haven’t experienced what you have. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t even fully know what he’s sorry for, and even Jason seems to find it confusing.

He huffs. “Don’t be sorry; it’s good you haven’t gone through all that shit.”

“But it’s weird, right?” Kai shifts, loosens his grip on Jason’s wrist. “To see someone who looks like you act completely different?” When Jason doesn’t say anything, Kai continues. “I’ll be more careful; I promise.”

  
  


“Jason, come home!”

Kai rolls his eyes under the helmet. “No thanks!” He doesn’t have time to deal with his; he’s already sporting bruised ribs and what he can only guess is a gunshot wound to his abdomen.

He tries to run; he does, because as much as he’d like to pummel the idiot man into the ground he promised Jason he’d be more careful. He gets two feet.

Then there’s something wrapping around his ankles, pulling taut, and he goes down hard onto the pavement; he grunts, twists, fumbles for a knife inside his jacket. Batman pulls the bolo line and Kai scrapes across the gravel; he gets the knife out, sawing at the string, and Batman rushes towards him.

Kai stands, still tangled in the line, and holds the knife at the ready; they tussle, Batman lamenting about his long lost son, and Kai really has to bite his tongue to keep from spitting venom. He lands a couple good hits on Batman, but only in hopes of an opening to get away; Batman is aware of this though, and he always seems to slide right into Kai’s escape route.

“Fuck off, old man!” Kai grumbles; he receives a swift kick to his sternum, goes down to his knees, breath knocked out of him. Batman grasps his head and brings his knee up, cracking the helmet and Kai closes his eyes against the shards that go flying, the stars the burst vibrant into his vision. He twists the knife, ready to shove it through the weak points in Batman’s kevlar.

A batarang impacts his wrist, he goes with the momentum crying out, and he twists towards the damaged appendage that is now rooted to the tarmac. Oh, great; it’s the new Robin. Kai throws a glare at the kid, realising too late that his helmet is useless to hide his face; he glances at Batman, who’s just standing there staring. Hopefully he hasn’t noticed the absence of a scar across his brow.

“You’re going to get help, Jason.”

Kai thumps his head against the ground, gritting his teeth; he feels a pool begin under him and shifts to get his knees under him. “Fuck off, he--I don’t need help.”

Batman reaches down to cuff him when a shot ricochets between them; Batman retreats, Robin at the ready with a bo-staff, and they glance about for the shooter. Kai grasps the batarang to pull it free, but he’s at a bad angle and no matter how he tries to reposition it seems like an impossible task. He groans in frustration, hoping Jason will just go away.

There’s the quiet thump of someone landing in the shadows; a panicky shout rings out, his name a breathy ending to the yell. “Kai!”

Kai lifts his gaze from his crouched position. “Just go!”

Jason pops off some cover fire, making his way towards Kai, and he joins Kai on the ground; he grabs the exposed end of the batarang, making eye contact. “This is gonna hurt.”

Kai waves his hand, a lopsided grin in place to hopefully ease the tension in Jay’s shoulders. In one swift yank, Kai is free; he grits his teeth against a painful cry and takes one of Jason’s pistols from him. He knows he’s frowning behind his helmet.

“I told you,” Jason quips as he raises up, firing once more at the dynamic duo trying to get close. “We were gonna fight over that fifth pistol.”

Kai shrugs, squinting down the sights at Batman’s approaching form. “It’s entertaining.” He fires, hopes Jason won’t get too mad at him, and watches satisfied as Batman drops to the ground, a bullet through his kneecap.

“Come on,” Jason urges; he grabs Kai’s injured arm and tugs, gently, in an effort to help. “We gotta go!”

They disappear into the night with Batman’s voice calling after them.

  
  


“So,” Kai breaks the silence; he can practically feel the tension rolling off Jason in waves, like a tropical storm. “Do you think he knows there’s two of us?”

“That’s the least of my worries right now.” Jason tosses the medical tools down; runs a bloody hand through his hair and cringes away; Kai immediately grabs a towel and one handed goes about getting the blood off Jason. “I think you need to go to the hospital.”

Kai shrugs; he feels sweat drip down his brow, nausea running through him. This wound is ten times worse than the one in his shoulder. “Nah, I’m fine; just patch me up.”

“I can’t!” Jason throws the towel off his head; Kai isn’t immortal. He was jealous of that mindset, had found himself believing in it, and that facade came crumbling down. “This is too extensive; I gotta take you to Leslie’s.”

Kai hums; he leans forward to press his head against his good hand, rubbing out the headache. The bullet was dug out, and Kai just wants to sleep. “No, it’s fine, Jay.”

His good arm is grabbed, drawn over Jason’s shoulder, and he stands Kai up. “Pretty sure you have a concussion too, and there’s helmet shards sticking out of your face.”

Oh; maybe it was blood he felt rolling down his brow. Kai tries to mumble reassurances, but what comes out is a slurred apology.

  
  


He wakes up in spurts, when a woman is shrieking out whispered questions above him, sterile gloves in place; a clinic or a hospital, he can’t be sure. But there’s that cold feel to it all, that disinfectant smell. He goes out again, comes back to a little pinch in his arm; IV probably. He goes out again, comes back, goes out… At one point he spots Jason pacing and tugging at his hair.

When he finally does become aware, he’s laid out in a small hospital bed tucked in the corner of some cramped clinic; he takes in the room he’s in, the cupboards scattered about filled with thread and medicine and forceps and a bunch of other tools he has no clue the name to.

He tries to sit up but doesn’t get far; not because he’s too tired or weak or in too much pain. He gets up on his elbows and no further because Jason is passed out stretched across his stomach. Kai huffs. “Well… This is new.”

“Don’t wake him,” comes an authoritative voice and Kai tenses, already looking for a weapon, arm curling around his slumbering counterpart. But it’s just the woman, the doctor, that comes squeezing in between a rolling cart and a filing cabinet. “He just got to sleep.”

She crosses her arm over her white coat and Kai catches sight of her name tag; Leslie. He eases the slightest bit, but keeps an arm around Jason just to be safe. “So you’re Leslie.”

“And you’re...not Jason.”

He smirks. “Kai; I go by Kai.”

She returns his smirk; all humor. “I know; Jason told me everything. I’ll admit it’s hard to understand, and it’s weird to see two of...you?” She maneuvers a rolling stool close, takes a seat. “I’ve treated him since he was no higher than my hip.”

“Tell me you have pictures.”

She does, and Kai was right; Jason was a cute kid.

  
  


Things change after everything; they were close before, a need to have something familiar nearby, but they’re closer now. Easily interacting now; Jason doesn’t hold himself so tensely anymore, Kai makes tea for both of them frequently. They cook dinner on the rare occasion they aren’t exhausted, a delicate dance in the kitchen as Kai gathers the dirty dishes and Jason stirs the pan.

“Let’s stop.”

Kai raises a brow, halting his jaw in the middle of taking a bite. “But I haven’t even had half of my meal!”

“No,” Jason corrects, setting his bowl down and leaning close. “Let’s stop acting like one person; out on patrol. Double trouble, right?”

“Yeah?” Kai stuffs the stir fry noodles in his mouth. “That’d be a lot of fun; to not have to hide all the time. You and me, beating on bad guys together.”

Jason reaches for his bowl, pauses, points at Kai. “No crowbars.”

“No crowbars.”

  
  


They’re identically silhouetted against the night sky, the horrors of Gotham’s underworld, the hope of Gotham’s needy.


End file.
